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He’d been up and down the pier several times, and he knew of the elegant shop this woman was talking about. It fit her personality. “Yes, the art. I’ve been meaning to buy some for my house.”
“You have?” She looked amused, and he didn’t know why.
“When I’m finished, of course. Right now, as you mentioned, it’s a wreck. Taking it slow and doing it right, ya know?” It was something he liked to say to people in this town. Everyone here seemed to live at a slower pace; most of them would nod and then talk about how doing it right mattered most.
To his surprise, she frowned. “I was never one who favored taking things slow.” She turned away from him. “That was the problem with my last boyfriend.”
Dang, this woman was intense and clearly vulnerable, telling him all this in one brief conversation. “Makes sense.”
She sucked in a long breath. “I’m sorry. Fine. Where are my manners? Nice to meet you, Mr. Birch.” With that, she nodded and turned away from him.
Oh gosh. That was a surprise. It wasn’t often that people dismissed him in conversation. “Hey, wait.” He juggled the bolt in his hand.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Well, you never answered the date thing, though you have mentioned twice that you no longer have a boyfriend.”
“I think I did answer when I said, ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Birch.’ That implies that I’m not dating you.”
Okay, this woman had already proven she was not easily manipulated by simple words, so he would just have to take the head-to-head approach. “I don’t think it does. Not when you almost took my head off with rolls of duct tape. I think youoweme a date.”
For a second, Lucy froze. Then she turned, and finally, he’d won a smile. “I don’t have time for dinner tonight.”
“Right. You’re busy taking care of Bridezilla.” He grinned, hardly able to believe his luck in running into a woman like this. And she didn’t have a boyfriend. Score! “Listen. The way I see it, you owe me some kind of date.”
“I owe you?”
He pointed at her. “Your reckless duct-tape-throwing put my life in jeopardy.”
“You were so afraid that you’re asking me out?” She shook her head. “Hate to tell you this, but you might be too wimpy for me.”
“Ouch!” Dramatically, he put his hand over his heart. Oh, they were flirting. He enjoyed flirting. Then he sobered. “Nah. I served in the Army. I’m definitely man enough for you.”
“Army?” She looked impressed. “Special forces?”
Dang, she was a tough sell. “Just Army, but it was tough at times.”
Another smile. Lucy cleared her throat and turned. “Right. Once you know me, you’ll see that unless you’re special forces or FBI or a SEAL, I’m not easily impressed.”
He grunted. “Dang, woman.”
She actually laughed. “Sorry. I believe you were clumsily asking me for a date, Mr. Birch.”
His mind spun. He didn’t know if she wanted a date or not. “Okay, okay. It’s not so clumsy. So you won’t eat dinner, but how about a motorcycle ride? I just bought one from the insane guy who owns the shop downtown.”
This seemed to pique her interest. “You just bought a bike from Marshall Stone?”
He nodded. “That sounds right. Huge dude. Funny, but a bit erratic.”
Lucy finished paying, and he thought she might just leave and never answer his question. “Oh, I know him. He’s a Night Stalker. Or was. Did you know that?”
"He never mentioned it."
She scoffed. “I’m surprised he didn’t. Marshall loves to tell stories about his dangerous operations.”
He shook his head. Therehadbeen a lot of helicopter posters in Marshall’s shop.
Lucy pushed the door open.
